Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
His eyes run over my body. “We’re just waiting for Nate and the boys. They’re shutting down the party.” He walks toward the black mini fridge he has in the corner of the room and pulls out a bottle of water then walks up to me, popping the cap off. “Drink.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Drink the water, Madison. You look like you’re about to drop into a coma.”
I take it from him. “Thanks.” I sip the cool water, letting it soothe my dry mouth and throat. Jesus, I need to go to bed. My eyes stay on Bishop’s as I take another drink. His mouth opens to say something but is interrupted when the door slides open, showing Nate, Hunter, Brantley, and Saint.
Nate stops at the threshold, eyeing both Bishop and me before a sly grin comes onto his mouth. “Interrupting?”
I roll my eyes, but Bishop ignores him. They all step inside, closing the door behind themselves. Nate walks toward me, pulling me into his arms. I look down at his white tee and scowl. “Jeez, Nate,” I murmur into his shirt. It smells of his cologne and Tatum’s perfume. “Leave my friends alone.”
“Hey!” He feigns innocence, dragging me toward the large sofa and pulling me down beside him. Tucking me under his arm, he grins. “She was all over my dick, and she’s hot.”
I pinch his arm. “Leave my friends alone. The last thing I need is them not wanting to hang with me because my slut stepbrother can’t keep his dick in one hole for longer than twenty-four hours.”
He pauses, his mouth hanging open, but collects himself quickly with one of his sly smirks. “Well, now, that’s not fair. I’ve been known to hit it more than once.”
“No, you haven’t,” Hunter scoffs at him.
“Ah-ha!” I point to Nate, his mouth open again and his eyes narrow on Hunter.
“Why are we even here?” He changes the subject by looking back to Bishop.
“We need to talk about the pick-up.” Bishop leans forward.
“You got there. So what’s the issue?” Nate asks. I thought Bishop called him in the car, but I’m guessing it wasn’t him. My eyes start to get heavy, so I press into Nate more, tucking myself under his arm. Their chatting drifts off into the back of my brain as sleep slowly takes over.
I wake to someone carrying me, and the chilly outside air skimming over my cheek. “Nate?”
“Bishop.” He pauses, and my arm hooks harder around his neck. “Nate had to leave. I’ll take you home.”
What? Nate had to leave? He left me here? Piece of shit.
“You don’t need to.” I clear my eyes as we get closer to Bishop’s car.
“What? Would you rather sleep here?” I don’t miss the laugh in his tone.
I pause. “You’re right. Just put me down.” He puts me back to my feet and pops open the door for me. I slide in, looking down at my phone, and I notice it’s 4:00 a.m. The sun is sure to come out soon. Bishop slips into his seat and fires up the car.
“I was out for a couple hours.”
“You were,” he confirms, driving us out the long driveway.
“What did I miss?”
He chuckles. “Just Nate losing his shit.”
“Do I want to know?”
He shakes his head. “Probably not, no.” He takes the left onto my street, and I was correct; it’s literally a two-minute drive from Bishop’s. After pulling into our driveway, he stops at the front of my house.
I turn to him. “Why are there so many secrets?”
He looks at me sideways, his hand running over his upper lip. “In this world, secrets are weapons, kitty. It’s what stands between us and six feet underground.”
I chuckle lightly, clearing my throat while swiping my hair away from my face. “You say that like you live a different life.”
His head tilts. “Not everything is as it seems.”
“Hmm, cliché.”
He grins. “Come on, I’ll walk you in. Nate said your dad will be back on Monday?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat and get out of the car. “I almost forgot. I’ve only been at this school for a week and it feels like a month.”
He laughs, taking my hand and walking me to the front door. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s a confusing thing.”
He nods, pushing the front door open and displaying the littered floor. Red cups are scattered everywhere. “Well, luckily I have a cleaner on speed dial.”
Bishop closes the door, and I make my way up the stairs. “You don’t have to walk me up.”
“Yeah, pretty sure I do.” Cryptic again. Nice.
“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” I ask, hitting the top of the stairs. I stroll toward my room, with him close behind. I walk in then drop to my bed, and he follows, kicking the door shut behind him.
“It’s not for you.”